


/JohnJae/ Butterfly Effect

by CLv_Minus36



Category: NCT, NCT127
Genre: Age Difference, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by EXO's Butterfly Effect, Inspired by The Starless Sea, M/M, Time travel but not exactly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28628778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLv_Minus36/pseuds/CLv_Minus36
Summary: Johnny only meets the love of his life a handful of times. It all happens at the weirdest places. Starting from the very funeral of the lohl itself.Inspired by the bookThe Starless Seaand EXO'sButterfly Effect.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【芝桃】蝴蝶效应](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226163) by [ConfidenceLevel_Minus36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfidenceLevel_Minus36/pseuds/ConfidenceLevel_Minus36). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I am really making progress. The usual deal: translation from my own work, non-native English speaker, not beta-ed, and the wording are subject to changes as we go but the plot is set. Comments are much appreciated for feedback!

Suh Youngho, at the age of 7, is attending the first funeral in his life.

Youngho isn’t exactly sad. Confusion might be a better descriptor. He’s in a mini version of tux. None of the jacket, pants or mini Oxford belongs to him, which might explain why everything is a bit too small. Breathless, even. Luckily, Youngho is wearing his favourite white T shirt inside. The familiar smell of detergent from the neckline calms him down.   
Seven is pretty young an age to understand the meaning of _till death do us apart_. Actually a more urgent question to begin with, who’s _us_? Youngho has no idea, so as a well-mannered child he does his best by observing and copying the behaviours of adults. He quietly sits as the others settle, quietly stands as the others rise. He listens to the speeches without registering a word. He tries so hard to cry a bit out of politeness, yet with no clue for whom his tears are supposed to mourn.

The ceremony ends at 3pm, followed by a wake. The mysterious organiser has prepared afternoon tea for the guests on the lawn outside the graveyard. With a glass of orange juice in his hand, Youngho plants himself in the corner. He has questions, lots of them. Yet there is no one to answer them. He is the only kid, and all adults are strangers.

 _Don’t talk to strangers_ , he recalls mom’s words. But one stranger decides to talk to him. Well in that case, Youngho thinks he shall be spared from the blame because he is not the one who starts it all.

“I am so sorry to have you here. It must be boring, isn’t it?” The stranger kneels to look at Youngho at eye level. His name tag flashes, reading Lee Taeyong. His voice is soft and calming. Youngho decides that he likes Taeyong and that since he knows Taeyong’s name, he is not a stranger. Yet it’s hard to determine how old he is. Taeyong looks just like the neighbour hyung who is going to college this year, but he sounds way more mature. Would he be a hyung as well?

“How old are you, boy?” Taeyong asks, softly.

“Seven.” Youngho dutifully replies, meanwhile raising up a correct number of fingers for better explanation.

“I am 27. But you can call me Tae.” Taeyong smiles. Youngho thinks he is beautiful. Beautiful people can’t be bad.

“Tae, was it you who had me here? Did you get me the clothes? Why did you want me here?” Youngho rushes through his questions at once. He doesn’t intend to be rude but he is really curious. He cowers a little, thinking he might have annoyed Tae.

Fortunately, Tae is very patient. He explains Youngho’s questions bits by bits, though the answers are not in Youngho’s favour.

“No, I wasn’t the one who invited you. Nor did I prepare your clothing. My job was to keep them till you arrived, for quite a while actually. And look at you. A tall little gentleman! I figured the tux would fit too small but there wasn’t much time to get it tailored. And sorry but no, it's not me who wants you here. I brought you here fore someone else.”

Youngho is rather beaten when Tae throws his question back with only negative answers. He pouts as a silent protest. Taeyong coos as he pats Youngho’s ragged collar, “it wasn’t me, because it was all _him_.” By “him”, Taeyong turns to the direction of the graveyard. Youngho realises _he_ is the one they just bid farewell.

“Tae, is he your friend? Why do you do all of this for him?” Youngho asks.

“I am his PA.” Taeyong replies. Registering the growing confusion on Youngho’s face he adds, “personal assistance, which means my duty is to help him do things. Life and work, anything, really. But outside the office, we are friends.”

Youngho is still mentally debating what a PA’s duty of “everything” covers exactly when he notices Taeyong is weeping. He looks sad, those beautiful eyes red and moist. Unlike Youngho who pinched his own thigh during the funeral to squeeze out some tears, Taeyong is crying his heart out. Youngho believes it is him mentioning Tae’s friend that makes him sad. He digs up his pocket for a handkerchief. But only then he remembers the pants don’t belong to him. He returns to Taeyong only with a handful of apology.

“You really behave like him.” Taeyong chuckles in his tears.

“Taeyong, do you _like_ him?” Youngho asks nervously. People in mom’s favourite old movies are like that. _Love_ to be precise, but too grant for a 7-year-old who doesn’t understand the meaning of love and death.

Taeyong’s smile gets bigger, so at least Youngho’s question does something. Yet he denies, “he has a person he _likes_. I never met that person, though. Or maybe I have but didn’t realised,”

“Then why does _he_ want me here? Who is _he_ , by the way?” Youngho doesn’t want to beat around the bush anymore. But he also decides these are his last questions. To which, Tae leads him back to the graveyard, to the same grave they spent time with early today. Tae explains that Youngho will understand when he grows up.

Youngho has heard the same old adult excuse way too many times so he assigns all his attention to _him_ resting in front of them. He smells fresh soil and sees the bouquet he left a couple of hours ago. He watches Taeyong kneel down and readjust the flowers, fingers lingering too long. He might be sobbing again, Youngho thinks.

Youngho can’t help but blames _him_ a little for making Tae cry so much. The slight anger pushes him to properly look at the photo on the gravestone. A friendly-looking old man. A stranger. Youngho’s searching eyes trail down, settling on _his_ name.

_Jung Jaehyun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait what Jae is already dead when Johnny is still a kid? Don't you worry. Hint: the tags and we already dealt with the major character death bit. Buckle your seatbelt because their story only starts now ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Suh Yongho, at the age of 9, is attending the first funeral in his life.

Oops, correction: the second funeral in his life. Well, it wasn’t until mom digs out the tiny tux from his pile of old clothes that bits of memory awakened. Youngho relives the smell of soil, the taste of fancy orange juice, the beautiful face and soft voice of Tae and the name of Jung Jaehyun. Mom says the tux is actually quite expensive, even luxurious for wearing only to a funeral. The should have returned it but Youngho fell asleep on the way home between Tae’s arms. Youngho regrets deeply for slumbering, because he didn’t say goodbye to Tae. As for not peeling the tiny tux off him soon enough to return it, not so much.

Ah, the second funeral. It’s indeed different. Youngho lost a family member for the first time so he has a proper reason to attend the funeral. Still, he isn’t very sad. He is not close to the late grand grandparent, who was sick for a time longer than Youngho’s entire life. Youngho can barely remember the elder say his name.

One thing he finally feels, though, is the inevitability of death and how it parts people forever. Nothing and no one can turn back time. His older cousins were closer to the late elder and Youngho has seen them wail. It breaks his heart seeing his beloved cousins and parents overcome by grief. He trembles in shock and sadness when realising that the brightest things fade the fastest. Yet there is nothing he can do.

Well, not entirely. Youngho figures it’s the best time for an adventure for a mood lift while everyone else busies themselves with the rest of the funeral. Youngho puffs out a sigh of relief. Coming back to his grandparents’ property is a rare privilege and Youngho is a kid who takes his chance. He walks himself along the path from the backyard wriggling uphill.

It is early fall. Youngho is dressed in some light knitwear, too chill staying in the shade and too warm under the sun. Youngho feels himself rushed by the autumn breeze, a trail of creaking dry leaves left behind his footsteps. Youngho jogs and never misses leaping into any pile of leaves he finds. He marvels at how crispy and fragile each single leaf is, but how fluffy a pile of them becomes. Pieces of dried leaves stick to his hair, his face and his delicate sweater. A little tickling but not a major worry of his.

Neither is getting astray and lost, or his parents finding out about his adventure. Being a responsible kid as he always is, Youngho has left a memo for mom before he set out. He is more curious than afraid of what lies behind the unknown. _What was that song? Into the unknown?_ He doesn’t hear any voice calling but fantasy and imagination fuel him. Youngho has no idea how long he has gone for. It might be in the late afternoon now. The weather forecast said a temperature drop would be expected in the evening, and the sky quickly starts to turn cloudy.

Youngho tucks his sweater into his pants such that the warm air caught under the knitwear won’t leave him too quick. He rushes, recalling a small cabin residing among the trees. His grandparents used to hunt in the mountains and the cabin was a hub for short rest. Soon the outline of the cabin appears in the wood. Youngho tiptoes inside, not before he has knocked, and taken off his shoes.

It is surprisingly warm inside the cabin. Youngho walks into the living room, only to find the fireplace is lit, some pleasantly smelling tea boiling on top of it.

“If only I had known guests are coming today, I wouldn’t have eaten all the cookies by myself.” Someone’s voice startles Youngho from behind.

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry for breaking in! I thought it was my grandparents’ cabin.” Youngho turns to an old gentleman seated in the armchair, sipping his tea.

“It’s okay. I won’t mind some companion at all. What’s your name, boy?” The gentleman asks.

“Johnny.” Youngho replies. He is not lying. Good kids don’t lie. Johnny _is_ his name, only in English.

“People call me Mr Jung.” Says Mr Jung. He beckons Youngho to come closer and carefully picks the leaf fragments from his hair. Mr Jung asks Youngho why he is alone in the mountains. Youngho doesn’t understand why “adventure” is a particularly funny answer but Mr Jung laughs so much that he almost tips over his tea. Youngho notices the dimple on his face, an amiable feature. Indeed, his laugh tangled in the smell of tea relaxes Youngho. He reciprocates with a tiny smile.

Youngho isn’t a fan of tea for his sweet tooth, so Mr Jung makes him some hot chocolate. Mr Jung then invites him for a game of chess. Youngho isn’t a fan of chess, either. Nonetheless, they have had some fun with several exciting rounds of Snakes & Ladders. Mr Jung enjoys himself quite a bit, until a sudden phone call rips the moment. Mr Jung gestures for apology as he stands up and picks up the call.

“Yes, Taeyong, it’s me.”

The name rings a bell.

“Taeyong? Is that Lee Taeyong? Do you know him?” Youngho asks as soon as Mr Jung returns from his phone call. He mumbles again with too many questions. Too impatient, but that’s because he misses Tae.

“He is a friend of mine.” Mr Jung says. He shows Youngho a photo of them in his wallet.

“Tae looks so young! How old was he?” Youngho yells out of excitement. Tae two years ago still looked like a college freshman, but in the photo he looks even softer.

“He is 23. Freshly graduated from college. You know him?”

“I met him two years ago. At a funeral. He said he was 27 back then.”

“A funeral? Was it for your family?”

“No, it was Tae’s friend. Tae was _so_ sad. It was his friend who wanted me there, but honestly I don’t even know who he is. He’s also a Mr Jung, but you are a lot younger than his photo.” Youngho remains at where he peeked at Mr Jung and Tae’s photo. But Mr Jung seems to mind his personal space and make sure to keep a distance. He falls into some deep thoughts after Youngho’s words and suddenly starts to cough. Badly. Youngho hurries to the fireplace to get him more tea.

“Are you alright? Are you sick?” Young asks worriedly. The shade of disease and death from the funeral still hovers in the air. Youngho is extra sensitive to the fragility of life.  
“Don’t worry, kid.” Mr Jung smooths his breath with some tea. Out of gratitude he claims, he fumbles out a large metal key from his pocket. The key is _old_ , in terms of both the style and its age, but still in good shape. Could be copper or brass. A paper tag is tied at the handle, one side saying Jeffery, the other signs of wearing and tearing. Mr Jung then digs up a pen from his pocket—how many things fit inside that magical pocket, Youngho wonders—and writes Johnny on the empty side of the tag.

“Congrats on the young man who cleared today’s adventure. A new one awaits and here’s the key!” Mr Jung says excitedly as he gifts the key to Youngho, or rather _Johnny_. Youngho hesitates but Mr Jung insists.

“Is Jeffery your grandson?” Youngho asks as he examines the key. Much to his surprise, Mr Jung shakes his head. But he promises that Youngho will meet Jeffery next time he comes. So there _is_ a next time, Youngho remarks happily to himself. It is really the time to head home. Youngho reluctances to say goodbye but he has to.

It is completely dark outside but thankfully Youngho hasn’t missed dinner as he arrives home. There is no escape from being educated about safety again but Youngho doesn’t regret one bit. He carefully puts away the key after he returns to his room, in his hidden _treasure chest_ like all kids do. He quickly drifts to sleep. And Mr Jung was right. New ventures await in the coming day and Youngho already forgets about the key the next morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> System update: Minor adjustment in previous chapters plus one new. Sorry it's been a while. Comments are much appreciated!

Jung Jaehyun skis for the first time when he is 10.

Technically, said first time has already ended, as little Jaehyun is not skiing but rather tumbling down the slope. Minutes ago, he tripped himself with one ski in the way of the other and lost balance off the track. He has managed to rid himself off of the ski, not necessarily to slow down but to avoid being hurt by the culprit that made him fall. Also to leave a trail, hopefully.

A pile of snow swallows Jaehyun down as he finally hits the bottom. The snow isn’t soft or fluffy. Jaehyun feels like he might have broken an arm, which will be a hassle for the rest of winter break when he is found. _If_ he is ever found. But before he can actually complain, a dizzy, cold, hurt and lost Jaehyun passes out.

Jaehyun wakes up to an intense feeling of thirst burning in his throat. Immediately, he realises he has been placed in a pile of soft comforters. He is safe and warm, polar opposite of being lost in the snow. His injured arm and forehead attended. Jaehyun slowly sits up, eyes still closed, as if this mirage will quickly die away as soon as he takes a squint.

“Oh please just rest for a bit. Do you want water? Or food?” Somebody guides Jaehyun back to a cushion. Jaehyun lays himself back, sensing the same kind of softness as the comforters surrounding him or the voice ringing above. But he dares not to open his eyes still. Jaehyun thinks that he might have been picked up by a very kind snow fairy. Could he ever get home now that he’s in the fairyland? Jaehyun cries to the thought before he realises it. Mr Fairy, so meticulous and caring like all fairies do, gently wipes away Jaehyun’s tears.

“Sorry it must hurt. You got some contusion around the wrist. I got you some topical painkillers when you were asleep but that alone won’t do. I can’t- _I_ shouldn’t kiss it better, maybe your mom but she’s not here. I guess you can try it yourself?”

To that, a smile breaks through Jaehyun’s tears. He finally opens his eyes to greet his Mr Fairy. Under an old electric lamp stands a tall man, curled brown hair, fluffy white sweater, corner of lips curling up. The orangery light from the lamp decorates him with a golden halo. Beautiful and mysterious, indeed.

“My name is Johnny. How about you, kid?” Mr Fairy asks.

“Jeffery?” Jaehyun whispers, though he has secretly granted the English name to himself. No one has called him so. Jaehyun wonders whether it’s a good name.

“Lovely.” Mr Fairy, Johnny, comments. He takes Jaehyun’s temperature with a hand on his forehead, sighing in relax because Jaehyun is not catching a fever. He asks Jaehyun again whether he needs food but Jaehyun never answers.

Disclaimer: Jaehyun is not being rude. He is just _afraid_. Afraid that consumption of magical fairy food will stop him from returning to the human world. He is, in fact, starving. But all he can find in his pocket is a smashed candy, peach flavoured. He vaguely recalls it was mom who put it there, just in case he needs an energy boost on the skiing track. Jaehyun stares at the candy as a sigh of discontent escapes him. He doesn’t realise Johnny has briefly left the room until he comes back with a metal box.

“Do you like candy? What a coincidence!” Johnny exclaims. He hands over the box he carries along and Jaehyun hesitantly slides off the lids. It is full of the peach-flavoured candy. Just like the one Jaehyun has, but not exactly. Same brand but the packaging looks slightly different. Jaehyun decides it is close enough to still fall in the category of human food. He gives himself a silent hooray as he stuffs one in his mouth. It tastes the same, lingering fruity sweetness melting on his tongue.

A couple of candies later, Johnny replaces the box with the same old chatter that kids shouldn’t have too much candy a day. Jaehyun wonders if tooth decay is also a thing in the fairyland. He hates dentists like all kids do. Fortunately, he gets distracted before the drilling sound awakens from his memory. After a quick supper—again what looks like human food and tastes like human food must _be_ human food, Jaehyun declares—Johnny starts to teach him chess. Jaehyun quickly forgets about the pain in his wrist. He prefers a winter holiday with board games and Johnny to a skiing session falling too many times to the embrace of Mother Earth.

Time flies, fun times faster. Soon Jaehyun finds Johnny sending him to bed. The pain and soreness sneak back already. Jaehyun complains about an early resign.

“Good night, honey. You will be home when you wake up but the pain will go away.” Johnny patiently induces him.

“But that means you will be away as well!” Jaehyun protests. His eyelids are heavy to his dismay, but not giving up on a good time with Johnny, he refuses to slumber. Johnny coos with a smile, saying that they will meet again, though they will both grow and change a lot.

As a token of promise, Johnny takes a metal key out of his pocket. He explains, “take this so we can recognise each other when we meet in the _future_.”

Jaehyun has no idea why a reunion requires an authentication but he swallows his question. He dares not to imagine Johnny forgetting him, or vice versa, so he turns to observe the key attentively. The key already comes with a label saying Jeffery on one side and Johnny on the other. Johnny really _is_ a magical being, Jaehyun thinks.

Johnny finally tucks Jaehyun in. He takes Jaehyun’s temperature again as he wishes him sweet dreams. Johnny might even want to give Jaehyun a good night kiss but eventually he retrieves himself.

“Night night, Jeff.” Johnny turns off the lamp as he whispers.

“Good night.” Jaehyun replies, letting himself being pulled into the sweet slumber Johnny has wished him. He finds himself wake up in the local hospital, faint taste of peach candy on his tongue. His uninjured hand over a metal key, clamping hard.


	4. Chapter 4

Suh Youngho skips class for the first time when he is 17.

It is not any ordinary jail break plan just to mess around. Youngho is on a _task_ , and he is telling no one about it. It takes a good ride on his motorcycle—proudly bought with money from his part-time job—to go back to his grandparent’s house.

Although Youngho isn’t the best kid in town, he wouldn’t title himself as rebellious, either. Adolescence kicks in with the tide of hormones but only washes along height, more acne and a _tiny_ bit of sex drive. Teenage Youngho does not lose his temper.

At least, not so easily. Well, there have been small fights and arguments at home. But Youngho deem most inevitable when the world decides to be against you for 10 minutes. Coming of age grants him courage and the sense of necessity to prove himself, which sometimes makes him fall into the trap of romanticism.

But not this time. Youngho dreamed a _dream_. In slumber, he became Johnny, the 9-year- old again, traveling through an autumn forest. The smell of tea boiling on a fireplace and the taste of hot chocolate luring. Then there was the _key_. It is too real to be only a dream so Youngho decides to find out.

Reality fortunately works in Youngho’s favour today as he lays hands on his treasure chest. The cardboard box has rested in the same place for almost ten years, dirty and long forgotten. It is intuitive to hide important things to preserve them against time, but sometimes the act also preserves them from Youngho himself.

Youngho pulls out the metal key. A sigh of relief leaves him before he is aware of it. So it was real. He gazes at the label saying Johnny and Jeffery back to back. Mr Jung’s words of meeting Jeffery next time come to his mind. Mr Jung is smart and exceptionally good at chess, but he can not possibly predict the future. Still, Youngho can’t help but think whether said next time could be today.

His body moves before his mind does. Soon Youngho finds himself standing in front of the same small cabin in the woods and laughing at his impulsiveness. Yet his embarrassed dry laughs serve well as a door bell and the cabin door magically opens.  
“So you must be Johnny.” From the inside of the door, a man at his forties politely welcomes Youngho’s arrival. His face resembles Mr Jung’s.

 _It can’t be true._ Youngho stares and stares. Then he asks, nervously, “and you must be Jeffery.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Jeffery nods.

“I am here because-eh,” Youngho loses his words and very possibly his minds.

“I know.” Jeffery says with an understanding smile. Even his dimple looks like Mr Jung. Jeffery lets Youngho in when his question blurts out, “are you related to Mr Jung, possible his son?”

“Oh I happen to know _many_ Mr Jungs, and which one are you talking about?” Jeffery answers with obviously fake innocence but Youngho won’t let him get away with it.

“A senior gentleman. He gave me this when I was young.” Youngho shows Jeffery the key.  
“Since it’s a gift to you, just keep it well. Maybe you will need it one day.” Jeffery comments. He does recognise the key. Youngho nods guiltily, not wanting to give away the fact that he has forgotten about it for quite some years.

It doesn’t take long for Youngho to get settled again in the familiar living room, surrounded by comforters on the sofa, sipping his favourite hot chocolate. An antique phonograph sings softly in the background. Youngho finally relaxes.

Jeffery, comfortably on the armchair next to him, is playing a round of chess with himself. He sure notices Youngho is staring before the latter realises himself. Youngho is just thinking. More questions fill his mind before he can make up an answer for himself why he _has_ to be here. Why is Jeffery right here, right now? How did he know Youngho was about to show up? How did _Mr Jung_ know he would? Is Mr Jung alright? And what about Tae?

Jeffery drops his chessman gently and looks at Youngho with the same pair of knowing eyes. Then he asks Johnny whether he wants to join him for chess. _Again! How does he know I play chess?_ Youngho is practically speechless as he adds yet one more question to his non-ending list of enquiry about this mystery man. He moves closer to the chess board, still absorbed in the thought of how to crack his questions. But Jeffery spares him no chance and quickly takes his first move.

_Click._

“I assume you didn’t tell your parents before you came.” Jeffery asks as he captures Youngho’s pawn.

_Click._

“No.” Youngho answers absent-mindedly.

_Click._

“They must be worried.”

_Click._

“Can’t wait to preach to me, so of course they are.”

_Click._

“Also don’t skip your class. Go home, kid, when we finish this.” As soft as Jeffery sounds, it’s a statement, not open for discussion. Not getting a reply, Jeffery shifts his eyes from the board to a frowning Youngho. Jeffery still has his signature smile of acknowledgment but Youngho doesn’t understand him at all. He seems to know everything and anything, yet all he says is the same old stuff like Youngho’s parents. Talking, talking, talking. All older people do is talking, or _educating_ so they say. Youngho feels annoyed. He silently turns to the chess between them. Jeffery is good at chess. His chessmen are taking over Youngho’s territory. Youngho tries his best to fight back but his impulsive remedy backfires. His heart racing, mind cloudy with all his unspoken questions. Jeffery is winning and they both see it already. Youngho has to slow down before the inevitable failure catches him. 

“How do you know everything?” Youngho laments.

“Like what?” Jeffery asks.

“Who I am, why I’m here, and the fact that I know how to play chess, and that I’m not the best chess player.” Youngho falls back into the cushions on the sofa. His imagination wanders. What if Jeffery _is_ Mr Jung? And this cabin is in somewhat a crack between time and space so Jeffery is always here and never ages. That way he can always welcome a self-invited Youngho. But it’s not a fairytale he’s living in. Jeffery cannot live against time and get younger and younger.

“I will answer with all honesty if you can beat me.” Jeffery gestures towards the chess board. But his smile—the same annoyingly knowledgeable smile! Youngho has to focus. He soon finds out Jeffer is playfully sandbagging. There have been a couple times that he even points out a square on the board for Youngho when the younger gets stuck. What annoys Youngho so much is that he doesn’t prevent this is challenging while Youngho obviously struggles.

“You are losing your temper. Calm down. This is not _you_.” Jeffery cautions. He sounds serious and it is the last straw.

“And how do you know what’s me?” Youngho rises with a rush. He almost choked to stop himself from yelling. He regrets it as soon as the harsh words leave his mouth, but his pride—or rather arrogance—resists delivering an apology immediately.

Youngho feels embarrassed, humiliated by the consequence of his stupidity even. He is losing anyway. He throws the chessman he was holding randomly on the sofa and dashes out for some fresh air. To his surprise, it is already dark completely outside. Youngho shivers when breezes of an early spring day brush him over. Jeffery told him to calm down so he is. Youngho roams in the chilling air for about five minutes. The only thing he can think of is Jeffery’s calm figure. It seems as if nothing faces or even slightly annoys him. Youngho envies his peaceful and wise mind. Reluctant to admit but Youngho craves for his guidance. For chess and for life.

Youngho decides to return. “Finishing the chess” would be a good excuse. He decides that he will paster Jeffery with questions anyway. Both of them know he would lose in the beginning. Yet behind the door lies a completely different view. Jeffery, chess, the sweet smell of hot chocolate, music, and all warmth and light are gone. Youngho is left alone staring into the empty darkness inside the cabin. Youngho is confounded, but the lingering taste of hot chocolate is still on his tongue. He can’t be daydreaming. His mind helpfully provides his wild hypothesis of the-magical-man-in-the-crack-between-time-and-space. Youngho is lost in thoughts. Maybe everything he’s seen here is not a coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't know how to play chess.


End file.
